“A
brilliant multimedia innovation from the Netherlands. Live acting,
live music and live camera work combine as audiences witness the
creation and production of a short film.”
This
is not a normal review, but then again, FLY is not a normal film.
Its an 8 minute short that is produced right before your eyes. Its
live theatre captured by camera, and streamed instantly onto the
wall opposite where the performers work with energy and enthusiasm.
And the audience can choose to watch either entertainment during
the show.
Live
theatre, 8 minutes long: so what on earth is this review doing here?
Why does FLY deserve a review on a film review site at all?
The
answer is simple, if you are a real film buff, who takes film seriously,
or if you are an aspiring film maker trying to improve your craft,
this production is an inspiration to us all. Though such a simple
plot, writer director Vincent de Rooij and his colleagues Osilla
Lakatos and Daan Mathot take us on a stunning journey, that feels
both real and immediate. Most importantly however, it succeeds where
many big budget features fail- for its entire duration we can suspend
belief and live the dream.
For
your $5 dollars you are hustled into a big shipping crate. On the
way to your seat you pass a music suite consisting of guitar, keyboard,
kazoos and whistles run through a mixer. Ahead of that is an amazing
combination of space suit, gyroseat, model planes, maps on walls
and a camera on a bendable mount. Seated on a plain wooden bench,
you face the far wall of the shipping container and wait.
The
doors close and Vincent introduces the film. “Think chicken
soup!”, he says. As the lights dim, we do as he says. In the
darkness a moment of claustrophobic nervousness sweeps through the
audience before the projector begins to illuminate the far wall
and the film begins.
Reverse
POV up through the bottom of a bowl of (clear) soup. Vincent’s
eyes bulge into the wide angle lens as he hungrily spoons the delicious
broth to his mouth. Suddenly we hear a fly and watch eagerly as
Vincent’s eyes follow its flight beyond the projected frame.
A quick glance over at the performers reveals one staring into the
camera through a bowl of water, another making buzzing sounds into
the mike.
But
the spell is not broken, stare back toward the wall at the projected
image, and once again you are transported into the film. The fly
appears buzzing on screen, wiping its dirty feet on the edge of
the bowl as the irritated Vincent brings the empty spoon down from
his mouth and crushes the fly with the back of it.
"BzzzzzzztttSplaaatttt”.
From
this point on its takeoff! We travel skyward, toward the heavens
as the dead fly’s soul goes to meet his maker. The world shrinks
below us as the camera twists, turns and swoops wildly to the backing
of guitars, whistles and shrieks. Vincent the cosmonaut is flying
through space, tumbling end over end amongst the solar system’s
heavenly bodies. A quick glance toward the performance end of the
container and we see Vincent spinning free of gravity in his gyroseat
the camera in his face streaming this wonderful, fantastic and very
real performance onto a screen only metres away.
It
doesn’t matter which way you look, the magic never lessens.
Even when you turn to study the performance, your eyes are naturally
drawn back to immerse themselves in the filmic depths of the projected
images. Acting now merges with visual art as music meshes with the
unpredictable, relentless movement of story and screen.
To
summarise the plot, after journey to the end of the universe, Vincent
returns to earth, as that which he destroyed. To describe the film
in any further detail would do it an injustice. FLY has to be experienced
to be understood.
And
that’s the reason for this review, and why if you want to
make a film, FLY is a dynamic demonstration of how to do it. It
just goes to show you don’t need to be tricky to make a film
that excells. The script is honest, the acting excellent and its
all put together in front of you using real old fashioned effects.
So
next time you see an amazing action sequence in a Hollywood feature
film, ask yourself, could they have done it live in one take? Ask
yourself if you need a budget to make a killer short film? And ask
yourself, how if you could push the limits of live performance and
change the face of film making you’d create that vision for
real.
If
you’re not sure about the answers to those questions check
out the FLY when it passes by an arts festival in your neck of the
woods. It will give you inspiration and joy to know that real film
making still lives in the hearts and minds of those who love the
medium of live performance and moving images.